<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423</id><updated>2011-12-02T05:24:58.864-08:00</updated><category term='Th&apos; Faith Healers'/><category term='The Sun'/><category term='Archers of Loaf'/><category term='The Walkmen'/><category term='Venues'/><category term='Porno for Pyros'/><category term='Sea and Cake'/><category term='Yo La Tengo'/><category term='The Coctails'/><category term='Bettie Serveert'/><category term='Iron and Wine'/><category term='Trail of Dead'/><category term='The Amps'/><category term='Primus'/><category term='Brainiac'/><category term='Robyn Hitchcock'/><category term='Modest Mouse'/><category term='Soul Asylum'/><category term='Scrawl'/><category term='The Breeders'/><category term='Uncle Tupelo'/><category term='Enon'/><category term='Pavement'/><category term='Built to Spill'/><category term='Connor Oberst'/><category term='Dirty Three'/><category term='Monster Zero'/><category term='Times New Viking'/><category term='Sub Pop'/><category term='The Afghan Whigs'/><category term='Man or Astroman'/><category term='Mojo&apos;s'/><category term='Band of Horses'/><category term='White Rabbits'/><category term='Stache&apos;s'/><category term='Sebadoh'/><category term='Ben Folds'/><category term='Howling Maggie'/><category term='Urge Overkill'/><category term='Helium'/><category term='Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments'/><category term='Screaming Trees'/><category term='Superchunk'/><category term='Tilly and the Wall'/><category term='Run On'/><category term='Wilco'/><category term='Blonde Redhead'/><category term='Cursive'/><category term='Mary Timony'/><category term='Mershon'/><category term='Bright Eyes'/><category term='Ugly Casanova'/><category term='Daniel Johnston'/><category term='Spin Doctors'/><category term='Sonic Youth'/><category term='Rainer Maria'/><category term='Lollapalooza'/><category term='Beachland Ballroom'/><category term='Will Oldham'/><category term='Sleater-Kinney'/><category term='Crooked Fingers'/><category term='The Flaming Lips'/><category term='Six Finger Satellite'/><category term='Teenage Fanclub'/><category term='Quasi'/><category term='Siren Festival'/><category term='Little Bros'/><category term='Fuck'/><category term='Swearing at Motorists'/><category term='Holopaw'/><category term='The Silver Jews'/><category term='Nirvana'/><category term='Chavez'/><category term='Tuscadero'/><category term='Archer Prewitt'/><category term='New Bomb Turks'/><category term='Guided By Voices'/><category term='Fruit Bats'/><category term='Peaches'/><category term='John Spencer Blues Explosion'/><category term='Beck'/><category term='Ron House'/><category term='Geraldine Fibbers'/><category term='Mike Watt'/><category term='Adam Duritz'/><category term='Nels Cline'/><category term='Son Volt'/><category term='The Magic Stick'/><title type='text'>Anecdotal</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>57</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-7587052128417143560</id><published>2009-06-30T20:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T20:16:54.272-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bright Eyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Connor Oberst'/><title type='text'>Connor Oberst on His Own</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I saw Connor Oberst without his Bright Eyes moniker. He played a little over an hour with what might have been his tightest band to date. Great show at the Blue Note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-7587052128417143560?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/7587052128417143560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=7587052128417143560&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7587052128417143560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7587052128417143560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2009/06/connor-oberst-on-his-own.html' title='Connor Oberst on His Own'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6119526332940162074</id><published>2009-06-10T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T05:48:30.865-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mojo&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cursive'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='White Rabbits'/><title type='text'>Free White Rabbits</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Answering a call for entries on Twitter, I registered for free tickets to the Columbia White Rabbits show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin and I attended the show. He introduced me to Matt Magin of Cursive. Nice guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was packed like I've never seen Mojo's packed before. The patio was filled, but the interior was wall-to-wall hipster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The band played an inspired, blistering set with a quick encore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6119526332940162074?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6119526332940162074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6119526332940162074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6119526332940162074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6119526332940162074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2009/06/free-white-rabbits.html' title='Free White Rabbits'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-826430859047270787</id><published>2009-02-16T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T11:59:25.749-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pavement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archer Prewitt'/><title type='text'>I saw the last Pavement show...</title><content type='html'>...in North America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pavement played Bogart's in Cincinnati at the end of the Terror Twilight tour. Archer Prewitt opened (and probably someone else I'm forgetting).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister, stone-cold sober, bugged a few of the band members about not choosing her rather excellent poem in a contest. They claimed it was the label's fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw them play "Conduit 4 Sale" for the first time despite seeing the band play four times prior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sort of disheartening that they played a few UK gigs afterward, but who really wants to end their career in Cincinnati?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-826430859047270787?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/826430859047270787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=826430859047270787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/826430859047270787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/826430859047270787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-saw-last-pavement-show.html' title='I saw the last Pavement show...'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5681805710282747912</id><published>2008-11-26T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T05:21:06.117-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Bomb Turks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ron House'/><title type='text'>Ron House</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ron House was a local legend in Columbus, OH. You could always find him behind the counter at Used Kids. However, his connection the music scene went way further back than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He played for the 80's underground band The Great Plains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, he crossed paths with Bob Pollard. Pollard told the story at a show once that Ron House introduced him to bands like Wire while hanging out at Magnolia Thunderpussy, another seminal Columbus record shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, House formed Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments. They played a handful of shows and had a ton of buzz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thurston Moore hand-picked them to play the second stage at Lollapalooza. I missed it because I chose to eat. My siblings saw the set, along with members of Brainiac, Pavement, and Sonic Youth. I ate something fried while Cypress Hill took the main stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did see TJSA a few times around town, including once &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/09/licked.html"&gt;opening for Guided By Voices and New Bomb Turks&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ron House once came to my college for a CD swap night. He liked all the pretty girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd see House for years after that in Used Kids. He always was pleasant. There were even a few times he rounded up a used version of something new I was about to buy, saving me a few bucks. I once saw him come in on a Saturday morning with his baby. That's sort of where the Ron House mystique ended for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either way, Ron House is the Columbus music scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5681805710282747912?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5681805710282747912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5681805710282747912&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5681805710282747912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5681805710282747912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/ron-house.html' title='Ron House'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8679371793434067989</id><published>2008-11-26T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:56:39.803-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Coctails'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sea and Cake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lollapalooza'/><title type='text'>The Coctails</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Not many people remember the Coctails. They were a band from Chicago who recorded on Carrot Top Records. They largely self-taught musicians who played a ridiculous number of instruments. The songs ranged from typical early-nineties indie rock to a sort of jazzy lounge-type of music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw them on the second stage at Lollapalooza in 1993 and again in 1995. Then I saw them on their farewell tour later in 1995. They sold dolls of the band members along with their Cd's and t-shirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Members later went on to form several other bands, including Sea and Cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8679371793434067989?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8679371793434067989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8679371793434067989&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8679371793434067989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8679371793434067989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/coctails.html' title='The Coctails'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2647820324866526690</id><published>2008-11-26T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:47:00.584-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wilco'/><title type='text'>Sonic Youth Opens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I saw Sonic Youth open for another band.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it was long after they had established themselves as a top, mid-range draw. They had already headlined Lollapalooza. And they opened for Wilco who shared Jim O'Rourke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonic Youth blew Wilco off the stage that summer night in Cleveland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2647820324866526690?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2647820324866526690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2647820324866526690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2647820324866526690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2647820324866526690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/sonic-youth-opens.html' title='Sonic Youth Opens'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6740534429647615062</id><published>2008-11-26T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:43:16.063-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Son Volt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wilco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Uncle Tupelo'/><title type='text'>The Best Wilco Show I Saw</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wilco has generally disappointed me with their live show. They're a much better album band for me. They always seemed sort of stiff and unnatural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, they were great one night. I saw them play an outdoor show in Columbia, MO during my first fall in town. It was a place some of the band members used to come in their youth to see shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, Uncle Tupelo used to play the Blue Note a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Uncle Tupelo, I saw Son Volt reunite at the Blue Note later that same fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Wilco...Many family members were there for the show. Either the familiarity with the town or the fact so much family was there allowed the band to be at ease and loose. It was a great show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6740534429647615062?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6740534429647615062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6740534429647615062&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6740534429647615062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6740534429647615062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/best-wilco-show-i-saw.html' title='The Best Wilco Show I Saw'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-323661915753357281</id><published>2008-11-26T04:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:37:45.099-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wilco'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Porno for Pyros'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike Watt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Geraldine Fibbers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nels Cline'/><title type='text'>Nels Cline</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am not a gigantic Nels Cline fan, but he has always impressed me when I've seen him live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first saw him &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-shoulder-helped-mike-watt.html"&gt;play with Mike Watt&lt;/a&gt; at Stache's. That was a pretty awesome set. I was maybe three feet away from Cline's incredible performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also saw him play with the Geraldine Fibbers and Porno for Pyros (with Mike Watt on bass).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of times I've seen him were with Wilco, a pairing which never made sense to me, but it worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-323661915753357281?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/323661915753357281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=323661915753357281&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/323661915753357281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/323661915753357281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/nels-cline.html' title='Nels Cline'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-103437341876768561</id><published>2008-11-26T04:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:29:24.846-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brainiac'/><title type='text'>I Saw Brainiac a Few Times</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I saw Brainiac a few times. There was the time at Lollapalooza on the second stage in 1995. Then I saw them at Stache's maybe a couple of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once took my sister who was in high school to a club in Dayton a day or two after Christmas in 2006. It was maybe a few months after Tupac Shakur died, but that didn't stop Tim Taylor from dedicating  a song or two to his memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most memorable show for me was the last time they played Columbus. There was a lot of buzz about the band signing to Interscope. They played hard and completely demolished the place...which literally happened a few months later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, Taylor died in a car accident in Dayton. It was before they could ever finish their record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-103437341876768561?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/103437341876768561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=103437341876768561&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/103437341876768561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/103437341876768561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-saw-brainiac-few-times.html' title='I Saw Brainiac a Few Times'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2239421616732463954</id><published>2008-11-26T04:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:08:48.559-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swearing at Motorists'/><title type='text'>Dave Doughman Sets Me Straight</title><content type='html'>I feebly tried to &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/swearing-at-motorists-swearing-at.html"&gt;tell a story about Dave Doughman of Swearing at Motorists&lt;/a&gt;. He found my post and set me straight. In case you missed the comments, this is what he said...&lt;br /&gt;wow, i had almost forgotten about that story... except, sorry, but i have to set you straight on a few details... the club was a sold out Canal Street Tavern, it must have been 2001 or 2002, because we couldn't get more than 50 people in the room until after we signed to Secretly Canadian... i did not notice this guy walk through the door, nor did i know who he was. and in fact he was not dating an ex-girlfriend, but stalking her (which i was only later told). what happened is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;we had started a song, when a beer bottle came flying through the crowd, just missing my head, but hitting the headstock of my guitar and knocking it out of tune. i stopped playing and started yelling "Who threw the fucking bottle?"&lt;br /&gt;"you got something to say, come say it to my face, don't throw things you fucking coward!"&lt;br /&gt;"Who threw the fucking bottle?" "come up here right now!" so as i am yelling this, some friends and fans who saw this idiot throw the bottle start pushing him from behind, towards the stage. as he&lt;br /&gt;"arrived" at the stage, i resisted the urge to punch him in the face, and instead bent down and calmly asked him why he threw the bottle.&lt;br /&gt;his answer was something like " She loved you, why do you hurt her?" that's when i offered him his money back and asked him to leave. he would not take my money, but started towards the door, yelling threats and more nonsense about my ex-girlfriend. that is when i ran across the table tops after him, knocking over everyone's drinks...&lt;br /&gt;my good friends Rod Boggs and Tom Byrne stopped me from following him out the front door, but once i had returned to the stage, they ran after him, chasing after his car on foot, until he stopped in the middle of 3rd Street, and pulled "something" out of the glove compartment. they then decided maybe it was best to go back inside before he could get out of his car. we later heard he was riding around town, saying he was going to shoot me, but obviously he didn't want to shoot me too badly, as he never came to the after show party...&lt;/blockquote&gt;My brother was one of the 50 or so people at Canal Street that night. It's actually his story and I butchered it. In the spirit of accuracy, I'll leave the original post and this Doughman's account.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2239421616732463954?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2239421616732463954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2239421616732463954&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2239421616732463954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2239421616732463954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/dave-doughman-sets-me-straight.html' title='Dave Doughman Sets Me Straight'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6243255923720882462</id><published>2008-11-25T19:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:52:01.833-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Crooked Fingers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archers of Loaf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trail of Dead'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Six Finger Satellite'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Superchunk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Little Bros'/><title type='text'>Crooked Fingers at Little Brothers</title><content type='html'>I saw Crooked Fingers play Little Brothers twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time was forgettable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric Bachman played alone, opening for Superchunk. His dirge of a voice was barely audible over the talkative crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made his set even more forgettable was the fact that an unknown ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead also played on the bill. It was Trail of Dead's first gig with Superchunk since joining Merge. The lead singer at some point leaped into the crowd and screamed into the face of the biggest guy in the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That happened to me once at Stache's when the front man for Six Finger Satellite screamed into my face while opening for Brainiac. I was not the biggest guy in the venue. But I digress.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superchunk played well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I saw Crooked Fingers in a nearly-empty Little Brothers on a cold, winter evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crooked Fingers, now a three-piece, played their first three songs on the floor with no amplification. The third song was announced as a Prince song. Someone gave a sarcastic cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bachman gruffly replied, "Seriously, it's a good song." Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They played "When U Were Mine". It was maybe the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the set was fine. My friend Brad yelled for a few Archers of Loaf songs to no avail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6243255923720882462?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6243255923720882462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6243255923720882462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6243255923720882462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6243255923720882462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/crooked-fingers-at-little-brothers.html' title='Crooked Fingers at Little Brothers'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5905552546620825386</id><published>2008-11-25T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:40:28.770-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Iron and Wine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holopaw'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fruit Bats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ugly Casanova'/><title type='text'>Ugly Casanova and Iron and Wine</title><content type='html'>We saw Ugly Casanova play the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a band opening to whom we paid little to no attention. It turned out the hushed band was Iron and Wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of Iron and Wine played with Isaac Brock in Ugly Casanova as well as members of Holopaw and Fruit Bats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brock did a lot of barking through his mega phone and even played "Styrofoam Boats/It's All Nice on Ice, Alright".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5905552546620825386?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5905552546620825386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5905552546620825386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5905552546620825386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5905552546620825386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/ugly-casanova-and-iron-and-wine.html' title='Ugly Casanova and Iron and Wine'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4055571967731549408</id><published>2008-11-25T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:34:01.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beachland Ballroom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yo La Tengo'/><title type='text'>Hanukkah with Yo La Tengo</title><content type='html'>Every Hanukkah, Yo La Tengo goes on an eight-night tour. I was lucky enough to catch one of these tours. The band stopped off at the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland, OH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember who opened, but I know they closed with "Nuclear War" as they weaved through the audience with bongos in-hand. I left with a t-shirt featuring a menorah with the flames spelling out "Yo La Tengo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drove home in the snow that night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4055571967731549408?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4055571967731549408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4055571967731549408&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4055571967731549408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4055571967731549408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/hanukkah-with-yo-la-tengo.html' title='Hanukkah with Yo La Tengo'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2473118562026273228</id><published>2008-11-25T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:24:50.150-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mershon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Flaming Lips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lollapalooza'/><title type='text'>Beck and His Backing Band: The Flaming Lips</title><content type='html'>I saw Beck play in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mershon&lt;/span&gt; Auditorium on the Ohio State campus. This was in support of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sea Change&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His backing band was the Flaming Lips. Not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wayne &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Coyne&lt;/span&gt; split his time on stage between playing guitar and encouraging the audience to cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beck mentioned that the last time he had played Columbus, it was at Bernie's. I remember that show. Bernie's could fit 100 people and there was a line around the block. I didn't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other two times I saw Beck was at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lollapalooza&lt;/span&gt; '95 and on his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Midnight Vultures&lt;/span&gt; tour several years later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mershon&lt;/span&gt; show was the best of the three.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2473118562026273228?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2473118562026273228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2473118562026273228&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2473118562026273228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2473118562026273228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/beck-and-his-backing-band-flaming-lips.html' title='Beck and His Backing Band: The Flaming Lips'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-3420107750783305173</id><published>2008-11-25T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:19:50.323-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swearing at Motorists'/><title type='text'>Swearing at Motorists, Swearing at Patrons</title><content type='html'>Swearing at Motorists played this club in Dayton. Near the beginning of their set, Dave Doughman noticed a guy walk through the door. He recognized the dude and stopped playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doughman proclaimed that the guy had to leave or he wouldn't play. It turns out this guy was dating Doughman's ex-girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without warning, Doughman leaped off the stage and chased the guy out of the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, Doughman returned to play his set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-3420107750783305173?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/3420107750783305173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=3420107750783305173&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/3420107750783305173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/3420107750783305173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/swearing-at-motorists-swearing-at.html' title='Swearing at Motorists, Swearing at Patrons'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-958819301213750069</id><published>2008-11-25T19:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:15:01.780-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robyn Hitchcock'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Flaming Lips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sebadoh'/><title type='text'>The Flaming Lips at the Newport</title><content type='html'>The Flaming Lips' &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Soft Bulletin &lt;/span&gt;didn't make sense to me until I saw it performed live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a half-full Newport Music Hall, the Lips put on a show with Sebadoh and Robyn Hitchcock. You could also rent a set of FM headphones as part of an experiment along the lines of their Zaireeka project. I opted to listen the old-fashioned way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this tour, the band played without guitarist Ronald Jones as a three-piece. Steven Drozd jumped back and forth between drums, keyboards, guitars, and samplers. Wayne Coyne played way less guitar than other times I had seen him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also new was the projection screen behind the band. This is where the new album began to take shape and make sense to me. They projected scenes from cult classic films as well as their own warped home videos. The performance was really low tech and a precursor to the extravaganza yet to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-958819301213750069?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/958819301213750069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=958819301213750069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/958819301213750069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/958819301213750069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/flaming-lips-at-newport.html' title='The Flaming Lips at the Newport'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-229990788151604233</id><published>2008-11-25T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T19:07:00.384-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Flaming Lips'/><title type='text'>The Flaming Lips and Xmas Lights</title><content type='html'>I once &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/11/bob-pollards-drunk-again.html"&gt;saw the Flaming Lips&lt;/a&gt; at Stache's. They played in front of what felt like forty billion white Christmas lights. I still have the t-shirt from that show. It featured an alien on the front and read "The Flaming Lips Believe" and on the back was a picture of Santa with the words "Okla City".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-229990788151604233?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/229990788151604233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=229990788151604233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/229990788151604233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/229990788151604233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/flaming-lips-and-xmas-lights.html' title='The Flaming Lips and Xmas Lights'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-59671321821370299</id><published>2008-11-24T18:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:54:11.647-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mary Timony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sleater-Kinney'/><title type='text'>Sleater-Kinney in Amsterdam</title><content type='html'>In 2000, I went on a trip around Europe. On that trip, I listened to a tape of Sleater-Kinney's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All Hands on the Bad One&lt;/span&gt;...until my Walkman was stolen in Italy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, at some point, we ended up in Amsterdam. I had checked some bands tour schedules before leaving the States and knew that Sleater-Kinney was scheduled to play Amsterdam sometime during our stay. It turns out that the show was that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked up to a ticket counter at the visitor center just outside the main train station in Amsterdam. I asked if there were tickets for the Sleater-Kinney show. The woman behind the counter had no clue as to what I was talking about, but she looked on the computer anyway. I was able to get two tickets for that night's show, 3-4 blocks from out hostile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was in this old performance hall. The main room was primarily used as a dance club. For rock shows, you climbed upstairs to a rather dingy room with no chairs and a tiny stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary Timony opened. She was good, good enough that I bought her debut solo album at the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleater-Kinney was incredible that night. I was surprised by all the Americans in the audience, but enjoyed the show despite them. This was the first time I ever saw Sleater-Kinney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Anne Frank's house the next day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-59671321821370299?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/59671321821370299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=59671321821370299&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/59671321821370299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/59671321821370299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/sleater-kinney-in-amsterdam.html' title='Sleater-Kinney in Amsterdam'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6747477881394877303</id><published>2008-11-24T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T04:16:15.403-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pavement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Helium'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archers of Loaf'/><title type='text'>The Best Show I Ever Saw</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I remember &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-dad-at-pavement-show.html"&gt;seeing Pavement at the Agora Theater&lt;/a&gt; in Cleveland with the Dirty Three and Come. While I was hanging out in the lobby before the show, some kid asked me about my t-shirt. I was wearing my blue Archers of Loaf shirt that featured the same picture of a hockey player as their &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;V&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;s. the Greatest of All Time &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;EP.  The kid couldn't get into the show since he wasn't yet eighteen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Archers of Loaf show was in Columbus, OH at a venue called Stache's. Stache's is no longer in the same location. Within a couple of years, the dark, dingy rock dive would be torn down in favor of a shopping center that would feature a Gumby's Pizza, a tanning salon, and an H&amp;amp;R Block storefront. This was same venue that Sonic Youth played in for the first time with drummer Steve Shelley. The place was a historical landmark of college rock and the indie scene.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;It was my sophomore year in college and I was still learning about indie rock. Despite living in Columbus for almost two years, I had yet to attend a show at Stache's. Of course, they were constantly going back and forth between allowing those under eighteen through their doors. In fact, my girlfriend at that time hadn't yet turned twenty. We weren't even sure she'd get in, but it was announced that those under eighteen would be allowed in for an additional surcharge. Nineteen was fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Archers of Loaf were unknown to me just a couple of months earlier.  I had only learned of them through a random track on the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;My So-called Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; soundtrack that my brother and sister gave me the year before as a joke for my birthday. The song "South Carolina" was constantly played in my dorm room. It wasn't until about a year later that I had heard anyone even mention the band Archers of Loaf. This guy Brad was letting me in on the latest in upcoming shows. I was intrigued as soon as he mentioned Loaf playing Stache's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The local free paper, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Other Paper&lt;/span&gt;, was pushing the Loaf show in the week leading up to the gig. The first local band I followed was the band Earwig. They were opening along with this band called Helium. Helium was getting a lot of attention since signing to the indie-rock label du jour Matador and featuring a member of math rock auteurs Polvo. It was going to be the indie rock happening of the spring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Being the uncool hipster wannabe that I was, I wore my bright orange Weezer t-shirt and high school ball cap. It was the spring of 1995. My indie rock obsession was about to begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Earwig put on one of their more memorable shows that night. It's as if they knew that this was the show that could propel them to greater things...it ultimately wouldn't, but it felt like it could. They rocked through their set and finished with their typical closer, "Wounded Knee". This was one of those three part songs that was made to be a finale. It opened with a sparse guitar riff with plenty of space before rocking with an urgency that riled the crowd into a frenzy. The song finished off in similar fashion to the opening chords before breaking down into a punk rock deconstruction. My heart was pumping. Those around me had these wide-eyed looks of amazement on their faces. This was only the first band.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Our friend (another guy named) Brad who now plays for The Sun was raving about the next band Helium. He was a Loaf fan but was really looking forward to Helium's set. The buzz in the club was definitely about Helium.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Helium was fronted by Mary Timony who has had a solid career of her own over the last decade. The band's video which showed Timony dragging a hoe through a field had been displayed on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Beavis and Butthead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;.  The "animated" adolescent twosome of course made some comment about a "ho" as the video played.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;My girlfriend bumped into Timony in the restroom. She warned my girlfriend that the stalls were a little scary. Timony later autographed a Helium t-shirt for her while Archers of Loaf played their set.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Helium's set wasn't all that energetic, but it rocked anyway. I still remember the old toy keyboard that Timony duct-taped popsicle sticks to in order to hold a note through one of their songs. I could barely make out her voice, but the band played a loud, raucous art rock. The set was able to live up to the buzz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Archers of Loaf was up next. I had been anticipating this show for the past month when (the first) Brad had first mentioned it. He had loaned me their two full-length discs which I promptly copied. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Icky Mettle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:georgia;" &gt;Vee Vee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt; are still two of my favorite records to this day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I had a spot right in front of the stage, leaning on the monitors. I was so close that bassist Matt Gentling nearly hit me several times over the bridge of my nose with the end of his instrument when he wasn't yelling a drunken "thanks" into the mic after every song. Eric Bachman, an imposing presence with his 6'5"+ frame and throaty growl yelled into the mic 24 inches to my left. Dana Carvey look-alike Eric Johnson was maybe five feet away, shredding the hell out of his guitar and distortion pedals. Mark Price was the most ordinary-looking of a band of ordinary-looking guys, but he could beat the skins into oblivion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Archers of Loaf played a set that included their &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hits&lt;/span&gt; "Web in Front", "Harnessed in Slums", and "Wrong". During the set, Loaf played "You and Me" which led right into "Might" with a bang of the drums exactly like they had on Icky Mettle. I could see at least two other guys in the audience mouth "just like on the record" as I was thinking the same thing. They played "Audio Whore" and shook the ground beneath my feet as everyone screamed along. The band virtually played every song from their young catalog sans "South Carolina".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I saw Archers of Loaf play three more times after that and have seen Eric Bachman several times as his next incarnation, Crooked Fingers. Never did the band sound as good or rock as hard as they did that night. That show changed the way I looked at live music. There was an entire community of people who lived passionately for these regular guys playing guitars in crap dive bars. I think that I have been searching for a show like that Archers of Loaf gig for the past thirteen years. I want that high again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So, when the kid at the Pavement show asked what he missed, I didn't have the heart to tell him what that show meant to me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was the greatest, most human experience of my life. So, I said it was "alright."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6747477881394877303?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6747477881394877303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6747477881394877303&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6747477881394877303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6747477881394877303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/best-show-i-ever-saw.html' title='The Best Show I Ever Saw'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2815087781181479612</id><published>2008-11-24T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:20:43.790-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Afghan Whigs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Howling Maggie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scrawl'/><title type='text'>The Afghan Whigs with Marcy Mays</title><content type='html'>I saw the Afghan Whigs a couple of times in Columbus. Once, at the Newport, they opened their tour in Columbus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Local heroes and the latest Central Ohio band to sign to a major label only to flop, Howling Maggie started things off. They came out in rather dramatic fashion, wearing cloaks and overusing the smoke machine. It was OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Whigs, on the other hand, were great. They ripped through a set of everything from their Sub Pop days to the current release at the time, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Black Love&lt;/span&gt;. The highlight was when Marcy Mays of Scrawl fame joined the band for a gut-wrenching performance of "My Curse."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2815087781181479612?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2815087781181479612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2815087781181479612&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2815087781181479612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2815087781181479612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/afghan-whigs-with-marcy-mays.html' title='The Afghan Whigs with Marcy Mays'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4095118454163332991</id><published>2008-11-24T18:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:12:17.264-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Amps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><title type='text'>Tppecanoe and Bob Too</title><content type='html'>I once saw Tammy and the Amps (later shortened to the Amps) open for Guided By Voices at the Southgate House in Newport, KY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Amps played about 2/3 Breeders' songs. These guys from above the band yelled for "Tippecanoe" through the entire set until Kim Deal obliged and played "Tipp City."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The GBV set was glorious to say the least. Bob Pollard was in his typical drunken form. This was maybe the last time I can remember audience members finishing songs for Bob near the end of his set. They unveiled "The Official Ironmen Rally Song" which I promptly purchased along with my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alien Lanes &lt;/span&gt;t-shirt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4095118454163332991?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4095118454163332991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4095118454163332991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4095118454163332991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4095118454163332991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/tppecanoe-and-bob-too.html' title='Tppecanoe and Bob Too'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8932679382750211666</id><published>2008-11-24T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T18:04:14.973-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Breeders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><title type='text'>The Breeders Help with "Shocker in Gloomtown"</title><content type='html'>On the same day &lt;a href="http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/career-advice-from-bob-pollard.html"&gt;my brother received career counseling from Bob Pollard&lt;/a&gt; at Lollapalooza, we saw the Breeders play. Since Bob forgot how to sing "Shocker in Gloomtown" during his set, Kim Deal asked the fellow Daytonian to join her on stage to give it another try. It worked this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8932679382750211666?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8932679382750211666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8932679382750211666&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8932679382750211666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8932679382750211666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/11/breeders-help-with-shocker-in-gloomtown.html' title='The Breeders Help with &quot;Shocker in Gloomtown&quot;'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8638773603822185213</id><published>2008-10-11T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T02:25:04.700-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Spencer Blues Explosion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quasi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Peaches'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rainer Maria'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Superchunk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Man or Astroman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Enon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Siren Festival'/><title type='text'>The First Siren Festival</title><content type='html'>I attended the first Village Voice Siren Music Festival on New York's famed Coney Island in the summer of 2001.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My siblings and I plus Todd drove all night from Ohio to reach Coney Island by the morning. We had doughnuts in New Jersey before we landed on the boardwalk at Coney Island, way before the free show began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To kill time, we walked the beach. I noticed that the sand on the beach sort of hurt my bare feet. That's when I saw some riding mower-like machine go by, picking up all the glass bottles littering the beach, except that it crushed more bottles than it actually picked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After taking a picture of my brother lying next to some puke, we looked in as Jon Spencer, his Blues Explosion, and their significant others set up shop backstage. Throughout the morning, several other bands shuffled their equipment in for the day's festivities. Man or Astroman parked their very-obvious van and trailer made to look like a Hazmat mobile center. We also caught a mini-set by JSBX for their sound-check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the real music began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came to support Enon and Guided By Voices with their Ohio roots. Todd received several compliments for his Brainiac t-shirt. We grew very annoyed with all the hipsters pumping fists to this version of GBV. This show was way past Pollard's prime and his schtick was sort of tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peaches was a highlight, in her Wal-Mart langerie and hairy armpits. No DJ. No Feist (before she was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Feist&lt;/span&gt;.) It was just the teaches of Peaches and her sampler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rainer Maria seemed sort of silly to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Quasi for the first time. Coomes and Weiss are the perfect duo of ex-spouses featuring a roxichord ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superchunk put on an inspired set. This show would mark the last time I saw Superchunk, which is too bad. It was crowded and stunk of BO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JSBX closed the show with what seemed like a 3 hour set, but it could have been the sun poisoning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made it as far as New Jersey that night before crashing in a hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home that Sunday, Todd became a vegetarian and I rediscovered &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wowee Zowee&lt;/span&gt;. My sister and I later discovered that we were in one of the &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/8345011@N06/2931341470/"&gt;random crowd pictures&lt;/a&gt; from that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never made it back to the Siren Festival.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8638773603822185213?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8638773603822185213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8638773603822185213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8638773603822185213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8638773603822185213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/10/first-siren-festival.html' title='The First Siren Festival'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-104839088921908088</id><published>2008-10-11T01:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T01:50:44.841-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Times New Viking'/><title type='text'>Times New Viking Kicked Out My Sister</title><content type='html'>For my sister's birthday a while back, she and some friends decided to go to a Times New Viking show at Columbus' Cafe Bourbon Street. Their ulterior motive was to heckle TNV drummer Adam Elliott since he was now dating (read: stole) my sister's friend's girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliott caught wind of their plan...or just saw them hanging out. So, he had management kick them out. My sister didn't even get one zinger in before being kicked to the curb. What a crummy birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-104839088921908088?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/104839088921908088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=104839088921908088&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/104839088921908088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/104839088921908088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/10/times-new-viking-kicked-out-my-sister.html' title='Times New Viking Kicked Out My Sister'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4825983585641620595</id><published>2008-06-24T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T23:06:35.318-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Afghan Whigs'/><title type='text'>The Afghan Whigs Final Gig</title><content type='html'>I was there when the Afghan Whigs took the stage for the final time.  The show was in their hometown of Cincinnati at Bogart's.  They opened with "The Boys Are Back in Town".  The rest is history.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4825983585641620595?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4825983585641620595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4825983585641620595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4825983585641620595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4825983585641620595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/06/afghan-whigs-final-gig.html' title='The Afghan Whigs Final Gig'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4994252645197358818</id><published>2008-05-24T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T10:02:09.581-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Silver Jews'/><title type='text'>Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?</title><content type='html'>Some friends took a road trip down to Nashville.  One night at a typical Nashville joint, they saw this guy who resembled Dave Berman of the Silver Jews.  Both friends were big fans of his music as well as his book of poetry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, isn't that Dave Berman?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, it was Dave Berman.  They hung out with Berman for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the bars closed, Berman invited the friends to join him at his place where he had some coke.  Neither friend had ever tried coke, but they could not resist the opportunity to snort coke with one of their idols.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While hanging out and doing drugs, Berman's wife came out to complain about all the noise.  She had been sleeping until the party moved to her home.  The couple had a shouting match.  The friends were beside themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that same year, Berman had a breakdown and nearly committed suicide.  He then found Judaism and has seemingly recovered from his addictions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4994252645197358818?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4994252645197358818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4994252645197358818&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4994252645197358818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4994252645197358818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/05/hey-isnt-that-dave-berman.html' title='Hey, isn&apos;t that Dave Berman?'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5926765493924901747</id><published>2008-05-23T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T17:40:40.751-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Will Oldham'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Run On'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chavez'/><title type='text'>Will Oldham</title><content type='html'>I nearly missed my chance to appreciate Will Oldham...twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palace Songs played a Lollapalooza second stage once.  I don't even remember which year.  Either way, I didn't pay attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time happened when I went to Stache's to see the opening band, Run On.  I had seen Run On before in an opening slot for Yo La Tengo.  They were really good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will Oldham came out with an acoustic guitar and some cheap keyboards that he laid on the floor around him.  The audience actually sat on the floor.  I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.  Who knows what lay on that floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was sort of slow and this woman was picking me up, probably the first and last time that ever happened.  So, we left for the Blue Danube across the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years later, I paid attention when Will Oldham returned as Bonnie "Prince" Billy.  He played with Chavez's Matt Sweeney for the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Superwolf&lt;/span&gt; tour.  I'm glad I caught him this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My sister had a friend/roommate who used to work a Starbuck's in Columbus.  One day, a Jetta pulled up with a mountain bike strapped to the trunk.  The driver entered the coffee shop.  My sister's friend made his latte and Will Oldham drove off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5926765493924901747?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5926765493924901747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5926765493924901747&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5926765493924901747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5926765493924901747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/05/will-oldham.html' title='Will Oldham'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-1231159205829199169</id><published>2008-05-14T04:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T09:44:24.428-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Built to Spill'/><title type='text'>Columbus Is a Douche Bag</title><content type='html'>I saw Built to Spill for the first time at Little Brothers in Columbus.  Between songs, Doug Martsch suggested that he might share some excerpts from the book he was reading, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lies My Teacher Told Me&lt;/span&gt;.  He was particularly intrigued by the entries about Christopher Columbus, since they were set to play the city by the same name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He proceeded to share an excerpt from a journal kept by one of Columbus' crew members.  He read, "Columbus is a douche bag."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Built to Spill then continued their stellar set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-1231159205829199169?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/1231159205829199169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=1231159205829199169&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1231159205829199169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1231159205829199169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/05/columbus-is-douche-bag.html' title='Columbus Is a Douche Bag'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2763272863874814911</id><published>2008-04-29T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T11:58:19.725-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Walkmen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Sun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Magic Stick'/><title type='text'>The Walkmen and The Sun at Detroit's Magic Stick</title><content type='html'>The first time I saw The Walkmen was in Detroit.  My sister and her then-boyfriend convinced me to take a road trip with them to see a band with which I was only mildly familiar.  I had one half of the band's debut, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone&lt;/span&gt;, in the black LP sleeve.  I'd later buy the other half that night and the entire CD a few days later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We listened to The Walkmen and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs on the way up to Detroit Rock City.  I fell in love with both bands.  It also occurred to me that The Walkmen were responsible for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that song&lt;/span&gt; on the Saturn ad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Magic Stick is attached to a theater by the name of Majestic and above a bowling alley/diner.  The Stick contained billiard tables, a large dance floor, and a wide-yet-short stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The opening band was interesting.  They fancied themselves rather dynamic, but their best song was a cover of that same Saturn ad song, "We've Been Had".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second band was The Sun (or "Sun" according to a flier).  This is only remarkable because The Sun are from Columbus.  I had always managed to miss their sets while opening for nearly every major act that had passed through Columbus over the past year.  They were considered to be the first major rock band to come out of Columbus since, well, ever.  It was ironic that the first time I saw them was by accident and four hours away.  The Sun were good.  It's too bad that their full-length, major-label debut was released as a DVD of videos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Walkmen then came on and blew us away.  They were all over the stage, swaggering and smiling their songs of break-ups, too much drinking, and fading hipster identities.  The guitar work was acidic and the percussion rattled our bones.  It amazed me that Hamilton could even speak, let alone sing after screaming every song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interest in a band was born out of that night that has not yet subsided.  I always like shows that win my admiration for a band.  This was one such night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2763272863874814911?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2763272863874814911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2763272863874814911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2763272863874814911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2763272863874814911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/walkmen-and-sun-at-detroits-magic-stick.html' title='The Walkmen and The Sun at Detroit&apos;s Magic Stick'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5961897377626912237</id><published>2008-04-24T11:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T11:54:09.864-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blonde Redhead'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chavez'/><title type='text'>Chavez, Blonde Redhead, and the dude my girlfriend left me for</title><content type='html'>I once saw Blonde Redhead at Stache's in Columbus.  They were really great.  It was way more punk rock-like than their most recent release, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;23&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part was that they opened up for incredible Chavez.  The drummer for Chavez was maybe the most amazing being behind I kit I've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part is that the guy my girlfriend left me for was there.  He actually picked up our tickets.  She hung out with him while I stood up front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that guy could smack that shit out of those skins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5961897377626912237?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5961897377626912237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5961897377626912237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5961897377626912237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5961897377626912237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/chavez-blonde-redhead-and-dude-my.html' title='Chavez, Blonde Redhead, and the dude my girlfriend left me for'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-421582537385859811</id><published>2008-04-13T18:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T18:58:02.088-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pavement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fuck'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dirty Three'/><title type='text'>My Dad at the Pavement Show</title><content type='html'>The first time I saw Pavement live was in Cleveland with my sister...and my dad.  Since my sister was 15 and we were heading to the big, scary city, Dad thought he'd accompany us to the show. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He enjoyed Dirty Three and their stories about the local pharmacist providing all the medication a junkie could need.  They also played a stirring set of violin-based instrumentals that rocked as much as they moaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck played next.  He didn't care for them.  I don't remember much more than that they didn't stick out like their name did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The headliners finally made it to the cramped stage in the Agora Theater's ballroom.  One of the members, I think Kannenberg, wore a fan-made t-shirt with ironed on letters.  A few mooks stood up front with their shirts removed.  The crowd moshed, but the band brought that on themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we saw a memorable set, my dad found a spot at the bar.  He ordered a drink.  The bartender made a joke about IDing him.  Then she reached below the bar to reveal a Mason jar of clear liquid and offered him some.  Wisely, Dad turned down the drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-421582537385859811?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/421582537385859811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=421582537385859811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/421582537385859811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/421582537385859811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-dad-at-pavement-show.html' title='My Dad at the Pavement Show'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4293723025545741586</id><published>2008-04-10T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T10:53:37.331-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Spencer Blues Explosion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Breeders'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Th&apos; Faith Healers'/><title type='text'>The Breeders and Some Annoying Opener</title><content type='html'>As a freshman in college, The Breeders were a big part of my music listening.  This fan-dom was  caused by a combination of MTV buzz, Nirvana praise, Pixies connections, an awakening to home-grown talent, and, most importantly, a great record.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Last Splash &lt;/span&gt;is easily one of the best records of the 90's.  This was the height of the Deal sisters' success, and I was there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I missed The Breeders' triumphant return to Dayton a month prior to seeing them myself.  It was my sister's first concert.  As they rode with her friend's worrisome parent, the girls assured their driver that it wasn't like there were going to be guns and knives at the show.  Just then, they pulled up to Hara Arena, right beside the "Gun and Knife Show" banners advertising the venue's other event for the evening.  They were allowed to enter anyway.  For a first concert, my sister couldn't do much better than The Breeders with The Afghan Whigs, Guided by Voices, and The New Bomb Turks.  Not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flash forward a few weeks in Columbus at the Newport Music Hall.  I got my first chance to see The Breeders and gaze upon Kim and Kelley Deal, full of a school-boy crush on both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Th' Faith Healers opened with a rousing set of noise and feedback.  To this day, their record, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Imaginary Friend&lt;/span&gt;, is a guilty pleasure of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, this awful band played.  It was a basic set-up of drums, bass, and guitar with exuberant front man...and a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;theremin&lt;/span&gt;.  The singer pranced around and seemed to emulate Elvis as he shook his hips and shook his voice.  It was wild, but annoying.  The worst was when he chanted over and over "Blues Explosion, Blues Explosion".  It was exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thing is, that opener became one of my favorite bands of the 90's indie rock era, The John Spencer Blues Explosion.  Oh well.  You can't always be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Breeders put on a great, great show.  I moshed and rode the crowd.  It was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4293723025545741586?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4293723025545741586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4293723025545741586&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4293723025545741586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4293723025545741586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/breeders-and-some-annoying-opener.html' title='The Breeders and Some Annoying Opener'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4190825748328314949</id><published>2008-04-09T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T10:57:01.603-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bright Eyes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tilly and the Wall'/><title type='text'>All Ages with a Curfew</title><content type='html'>Bright Eyes played what was advertised as an "all ages" show at Columbus' Newport Music Hall.  I can't quite recall the year, but I know it was during the summer and it was hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opener Tilly and the Wall sounded awful, but I equate this to the Newport's infamously bad sound system.  Later, better sounding performances would support this assertion.  The tap dancer just sounded like your upstairs neighbor stomping around his apartment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright Eyes came on to thirteen-year-old screams and calls for all various ballads of teen angst and loss and whatever else Oberst laments.  The set was not particularly inspired, but it cost us enough to get in that we weren't going to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, suddenly, without warning, the lights came on and the crummy sound system was turned off.  Oberst played on, eventually opting for an acoustic guitar while sitting on the monitors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bouncers and the management started pushing us out of the venue.  I believe my brother shouted some not-so-appreciative words at the Newport folk.  They ignored and sent us walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ventured to several other rock shows that night, not ever feeling like we got our money's worth.  It was later revealed on a Bright Eyes discussion board that the show was only scheduled to go until 10, since it was "all ages".  I have since avoided "all ages" shows.  However, I may reconsider once the kid is keeping me awake all night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4190825748328314949?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4190825748328314949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4190825748328314949&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4190825748328314949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4190825748328314949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-ages-with-curfew.html' title='All Ages with a Curfew'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4553978995290788269</id><published>2008-04-01T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T06:24:22.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stache&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Monster Zero'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archers of Loaf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tuscadero'/><title type='text'>Beating Them with a Yardstick</title><content type='html'>I saw Archers of Loaf a couple of times at Stache's in Columbus.  The second time was a letdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend's band, Monster Zero, opened the show.  These jerks in front of me kept screaming for MZ to play a cool cover.  MZ had played "Gold Star for Robot Boy" once while opening for Mercury Rev and Hum, but chose not to play any covers on this night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second band, Tuscadero, was an all-grrrl group from DC on Teen Beat.  They were peppy, punky, and fresh.  However, the band soon became very agitated with the same group of jerks up front.  This time, instead of hollering for "cool covers", these mooks were smoking up a storm and blowing it right at the band.  Normally, this is not a big deal, except for the fact that the band asked the audience before their set to hold off on smoking until they were done.  The band even stopped at one point until the cigarettes were put out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Archers of Loaf hopped on stage.  I figured that there was no way that this crew of jackasses could ruin their set.  I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loaf started off with a band, rocking through their first few songs.  The crowd was rocking.  I found myself in almost the same post I held a year before, right in front, just behind front man Eric Bachman's monitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same guys who heckled my friend and blew smoke at Tuscadero were actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;moshing.  &lt;/span&gt;Sure, moshing was a regular feature of rock shows in the 1990's, but this was 1996 and it was a small, indie rock show.  It wasn't the Warped Tour and that wasn't Rancid on stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pushing and shoving got so bad that Bachman started cutting off songs to yell at the audience to quit.  They didn't quit and the band became more and more agitated.  Finally, they walked off with Bachman saying, "That's it.  We're done."  There was no encore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Archers of Loaf again about a year later in Cleveland at the Euclid.  I was able to talk to Loaf bassist Matt Gentling about the Stache's show.  He replied, "Yeah, that was bad.  We needed yardsticks to beat them down."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since that Loaf show at Stache's, I have bumped into the heckling-smoking-moshing idiots' leader at several shows.  He's obnoxious.  He's that guy who yells for the same song throughout a band's set and never stops.  (Wait, I've done that.)  The worst was the time his band opened for Guided by Voices.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4553978995290788269?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4553978995290788269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4553978995290788269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4553978995290788269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4553978995290788269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/04/beating-them-with-yardstick.html' title='Beating Them with a Yardstick'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8596513627509969363</id><published>2008-02-11T18:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T18:20:20.122-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daniel Johnston'/><title type='text'>Daniel Johnston</title><content type='html'>I saw Daniel Johnston perform on February 9, 2008 in Omaha at Slowdown.  This, of course, does not prove that I was there, that I had heard of him first, but I did go.  Then I blogged about it, pissing off one of the guys backing Johnston.  (What?  It was a good critique.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good venue that Slowdown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8596513627509969363?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8596513627509969363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8596513627509969363&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8596513627509969363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8596513627509969363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/02/daniel-johnston.html' title='Daniel Johnston'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6473349151010519327</id><published>2008-02-04T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T21:11:29.645-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teenage Fanclub'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Venues'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Modest Mouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bettie Serveert'/><title type='text'>One of My Favorite Venues: The Crocodile Cafe</title><content type='html'>I spent some time in Seattle during the summer of 1997.  While there, I was able to catch a couple of shows at the Crocodile Cafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The venue was (is?) owned by Stephanie Dorgan, one-time wife of REM's Peter Buck and has been a fixture in the Seattle music scene since it opened in 1991.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a cafe out front, seedy bar in the back, and a small stage and dancefloor hidden behind a retractable wall.  It was part of my indie rock mecca.  I'm glad I was able to see some bands there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were two shows I attended that summer.  The first was Teenage Fanclub and Bettie Serveert.  Both bands put on really solid shows.  Carol van Dyk has one of the best voices in the indie world and she was amiably backed by guitarist, Peter Visser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second show was part of an AIDS benefit show that featured Modest Mouse.  MM played a short, equipment-failing set, but they rocked through material from what would become 1997's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lonesome and Crowded West&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6473349151010519327?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6473349151010519327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6473349151010519327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6473349151010519327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6473349151010519327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/02/one-of-my-favorite-venues-crocodile.html' title='One of My Favorite Venues: The Crocodile Cafe'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-1853378723574274998</id><published>2008-02-01T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T08:44:51.954-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Band of Horses'/><title type='text'>6 Hours for 30 Minutes</title><content type='html'>Published earlier from my real blog on February 1, 2008...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I had two tickets for last night's Band of Horses show in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-family: arial;" st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;St.   Louis&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;, but no one wanted brave the snow to see them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;"&gt;Then, an eleventh-hour reply to emailed pleas gave me the permission I needed to take on Old Man Winter and make the trek to see Band of Horses. My friend TJ came through and together we headed to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;St. Louis&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The roads weren't actually that bad for most of the trip, but as we closed in on &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;St. Louis&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;, our progress slowed. It took us two hours to hit the city's outskirts which isn't far off the pace on a clear day. However, the snow was beginning to pile up and we found ourselves behind a line of snowplows that caused us to add another hour to our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow we found the venue, The Gargoyle, hidden in the basement of a student center on &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Washington&lt;/st1:placename&gt;  &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;University&lt;/st1:placetype&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;'s campus.  It was thirty minutes into Band of Horses' set, but we had arrived!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BoH were really solid live. Front man Ben Bridwell's voice sounded almost human without the heavily engineered effects of the band's two Sub Pop releases, but it was still powerful enough to hold its own among the guitars, bass, and drums. The band overall was tight but loose enough to cause the prerequisite head-bobbing one expects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TJ and I had to laugh that although we had missed half of the band's set, we still got to hear the "hit", aka "The Funeral". But that wasn't even the highlight of the set. The band played a Credence Clearwater Revival b-side called "Effigy". This has to be one of my all-time favorite tracks, especially the version recorded by Uncle Tupelo for the &lt;i&gt;No Alternative&lt;/i&gt; compilation.  It was a pleasant surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the encore, we had to make our way back to highways which had only accumulated snow while we were at the Gargoyle. A drive that usually takes me just under two hours, took us over three. Between the drifts, fishtails, and iced over windshield, we were lucky to get out that quickly. It was so bad at one point that we turned onto an exit to clear the windshield and knock the ice off wipers that ended up placing us on a whole other highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We eventually made our way back to I-70 and back in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;COMO&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. It took us three hours to get there and three hours to get back. All that for thirty minutes of rock and roll, but it was worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-1853378723574274998?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/1853378723574274998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=1853378723574274998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1853378723574274998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1853378723574274998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/02/6-hours-for-30-minutes.html' title='6 Hours for 30 Minutes'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-7155560117289453077</id><published>2008-01-10T19:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T19:38:28.500-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><title type='text'>Ben, Thurston Moore, and Kim Gordon</title><content type='html'>My friend, Ben, once obtained the NYC phone number for punk rock couple du jour Thruston Moore and Kim Gordon.  He left them a rather suave message about seeing them about or some crap like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-7155560117289453077?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/7155560117289453077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=7155560117289453077&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7155560117289453077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7155560117289453077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2008/01/ben-thurston-moore-and-kim-gordon.html' title='Ben, Thurston Moore, and Kim Gordon'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8236397348284302356</id><published>2007-12-15T05:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T06:02:08.097-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nirvana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Primus'/><title type='text'>My Fourth and Fifth Concerts</title><content type='html'>I can't remember which concert I went to first, so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fall of my freshman year at college was a time for me to get out and discover music.  Although, I mostly listened to the same stuff I had been into for the previous year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That fall, a friend of mine and I saw Primus at the Newport.  We took the bus down to campus and got our mosh on.  (Someone please remind me never to write about getting anything on ever again.  At least I didn't write that "we got our drink on" or some other stupid shit like that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dexterity at which Les Claypool could bang out a song on the bass had me awestruck.  I could better see at this show the skill with which he played as compared to the cavernous venue of the previous summer's Lollapalooza.  This was probably at the height of Primus' fame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My cousin saw them when he was in high school and their name was Primal.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Florida and I waited at the bus stop with some crazy preacher and a drunk, white-trash couple making out for our ride home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other big concert I saw that fall was Nirvana at Dayton's Hara Arena.  This was the show that made me the "guy-who-goes-to-concerts".  We had to sit high in the arena since we did not have floor tickets, but the usher assured us that we could probably sneak onto the floor once Nirvana went on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After nearly falling asleep during the Meat Puppets' set, my brother, his friend Jeff, and I made our break for the floor.  That was the last I saw of those two until after the show, in the snow-covered car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has to be one of my four or five greatest concert experiences.  There were announcements over the PA for a guy named Chad to come to the stage.  We figured this was a joke about the band's former drummer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pat Smear was particularly funny at this show.  Joints were tossed at his feet.  He'd pick them up, take a sniff, acknowledge the audience, and pocket the spliff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the band was as reckless as I had dreamed they'd be, playing all the songs I wanted them to.  That was the most violent mosh pit I had ever experienced and still enjoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have the ticket from that show.  It's stained from the orange parking stub that bled once I had sweat through my jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember running through the snow to the car.  I had to put on my frozen letter jacket (because I wouldn't dare wear that thing to the concert) as I tried to warm up the car.  Shortly after, my brother and Jeff found their way to the car.  We reminisced the whole way home, buzzing from what we had just witnessed: the raw greatness that has made Nirvana the icon it is today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8236397348284302356?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8236397348284302356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8236397348284302356&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8236397348284302356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8236397348284302356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-fourth-and-fifth-concerts.html' title='My Fourth and Fifth Concerts'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5072455413330135974</id><published>2007-12-11T05:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T05:55:50.125-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lollapalooza'/><title type='text'>My Third Concert: Lollapalooza '93</title><content type='html'>My brother used a sick day to buy our tickets to Lollapalooza '93 at Buckeye Lake just east of Columbus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember taking the day off from work at a YMCA Camp.  When I had asked my boss to take the day off, he simply asked for some documentation.  I proceeded to write an essay proclaiming Lollapalooza's value as a cultural event.  They still have that paper in my file at Camp Willson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We picked up a couple of girls who went to our high school and followed the family hairdresser and her husband as they weaved through highway traffic through Columbus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a typically hot and humid Ohio summer day.  We often found ourselves refilling water bottles and desperately searching for shade in the open field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rage Against the Machine opened the show nearly assaulting the audience.  I remember Zach de la Rocha screaming something about the police.  At that exact moment, several of the rent-a-cops and state patrolmen gathered in a group.  I don't know if was just a coincidence, but they definitely gathered during Rage's set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day, we watched the fem-Nirvana of Babes in Toyland.  A puppet show that featured all the holes of the body highlighted the second stage along with sets by Tool and the Coctails.  Arrested Development got the crowd dancing and Dinosaur Jr induced head bobbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was co-headlined by Alice in Chains and Primus, two of out favorite bands at the time.  Layne Staley of Chains came out in a suit before finally stripping down to almost nothing.  Primus ended the night.  One of the highlights was when Fishbone's Angelo Moore joined Les Claypool for a few songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was probably the day that single-handily changed my view of the world.  Between the numerous bands, hemp stands, and pro-choice I saw that there were viewpoints way outside of my current scope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5072455413330135974?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5072455413330135974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5072455413330135974&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5072455413330135974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5072455413330135974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-third-concert-lollapalooza-93.html' title='My Third Concert: Lollapalooza &apos;93'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5639563719376673001</id><published>2007-12-04T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T10:10:49.393-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Screaming Trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spin Doctors'/><title type='text'>My Second Concert: Spin Doctors</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This was the show that told me I needed to be more discriminating in my concert choices.  Although I was only 18, most of the audience was 5-6 years younger...not counting their parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god Screaming Trees opened.  Their presence alone kept the evening from being totally forgettable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5639563719376673001?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5639563719376673001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5639563719376673001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5639563719376673001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5639563719376673001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-second-concert-spin-doctors.html' title='My Second Concert: Spin Doctors'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4372701859056612159</id><published>2007-12-03T14:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T14:59:46.356-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soul Asylum'/><title type='text'>My First Concert: Soul Asylum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;March 17, 1993:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a senior in high school.  It was a cold St. Patrick's Day.  I got my picture in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Columbus Dispatch&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, we headed to Columbus to catch the Soul Asylum show at the Newport Music Hall.  Green beer was flowing.  We bought our t-shirts and received free, matching hats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vic Chestnut put on an inspired set that put the crowd to sleep.  There were people actually sitting on the Newport floor for this portion of the show.  The audience actually cheered when his set was done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Goo Goo Dolls came on to impress with their blue-collar Buffalo punk.  All I can remember is how one of the guys had the longest, shaggiest bangs I've ever seen.  There were no accoustic power ballads that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soul Asylum came on and promptly played all their hits.  We moshed.  We had fun.  We ate tacos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4372701859056612159?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4372701859056612159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4372701859056612159&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4372701859056612159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4372701859056612159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-first-concert-soul-asylum.html' title='My First Concert: Soul Asylum'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8117687173879058991</id><published>2007-11-26T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T13:01:05.081-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Walkmen'/><title type='text'>Hamilton Leithauser Wanted to Buy You a Drink</title><content type='html'>We were at Little Brothers for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Walkmen&lt;/span&gt; show, hanging with some friends, and enjoying a few beverages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Walkmen&lt;/span&gt; front man, Hamilton &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Leithauser&lt;/span&gt;, approached my sister's roommate.  He offered to buy my sister's roommate a drink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turned him down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never forgave her for this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8117687173879058991?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8117687173879058991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8117687173879058991&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8117687173879058991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8117687173879058991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/11/hamilton-leithauser-wanted-to-buy-you.html' title='Hamilton Leithauser Wanted to Buy You a Drink'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-7253137862245945352</id><published>2007-11-19T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T11:55:56.263-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bright Eyes'/><title type='text'>Take Off the Mask, Conor</title><content type='html'>I saw Bright Eyes play a raucous show once at Little Brothers in Columbus.  Conor Oberst came out wearing a rubber George W. Bush mask.  He only lifted the mask slightly when he needed another swig from his rather large bottle of red wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mask stayed on through two or three songs despite pleas from several young women in the crowd to take it off.  They just wanted to see his face, which they did, eventually.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-7253137862245945352?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/7253137862245945352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=7253137862245945352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7253137862245945352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7253137862245945352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/11/take-off-mask-conor.html' title='Take Off the Mask, Conor'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-2916903406322513226</id><published>2007-11-17T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T06:21:00.755-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Urge Overkill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pavement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scrawl'/><title type='text'>Stephen Malkmus Doesn't Know His Own Lyrics and Blackie Onassis Is Gay</title><content type='html'>A buddy of mine used to work for the weekly entertainment rag in Columbus.  His editor had been around and seen a few shows in her day.  One of those shows was a Pavement show at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Stache's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the gig, the woman approached front man Stephen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Malkmus&lt;/span&gt;.  She proceeded to tell him that he sang the wrong lyrics to Pavement favorite "Summer Babe".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that he wrote and recorded the song in question, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Malkmus&lt;/span&gt; disagreed.  The woman insisted that he sang it differently than how he had on the record.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Malkmus&lt;/span&gt; stuck by his story and eventually escaped my friend's boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should also be noted that this same person who questioned &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Malkmus&lt;/span&gt; also tried to proposition Urge Overkill drummer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Blackie&lt;/span&gt; Onassis, also in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Stache's&lt;/span&gt;.  While making a b-line for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;uber&lt;/span&gt;-cool percussionist, Marcy Mays (Scrawl co-founder) stopped the editor from making a terrible mistake.  "Don't waste your time," Mays warned.  "He's gay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad no one stopped her from making an ass of herself to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Malkmus&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Stories &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;courtesy&lt;/span&gt; of Chad.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-2916903406322513226?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/2916903406322513226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=2916903406322513226&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2916903406322513226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/2916903406322513226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/11/stephen-malkmus-doesnt-know-his-own.html' title='Stephen Malkmus Doesn&apos;t Know His Own Lyrics and Blackie Onassis Is Gay'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5302820858274942526</id><published>2007-11-15T04:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-15T04:40:10.800-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Flaming Lips'/><title type='text'>Bob Pollard's Drunk Again</title><content type='html'>Bob Pollard has been known to drink a lot while performing on stage with his band, Guided By Voices.  I saw him last one song with another band, The Flaming Lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The band packed itself onto the tiny stage at Stache's and began to rip through "Motor Away" as Pollard joined them with a beer in hand.  The problem was that Bob was singing but there were no vocals to be heard.  Eventually, he figured out that the mic had been switched off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Mr. Pollard literally slumped to another side of the stage (a spot in which he'd stay the rest of the evening), Wayne Coyne asked if he had forgotten the words to the song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5302820858274942526?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5302820858274942526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5302820858274942526&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5302820858274942526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5302820858274942526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/11/bob-pollards-drunk-again.html' title='Bob Pollard&apos;s Drunk Again'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-915533559161266635</id><published>2007-10-31T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T11:33:46.560-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bright Eyes'/><title type='text'>Bright Eyes and the Drunk Kids Catholic</title><content type='html'>My brother and sister went with some friends to see Bright Eyes at the historic Southgate House in Newport, KY.  After a stirring performance,  Conor Oberst came back on the stage with an acoustic guitar to perform an encore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the friends who accompanied my siblings was this guy Andy.  Andy, as is typical for him on a night out, had many, many drinks.  As I'm sure many of you are aware that alcohol is really just social lubricant that releases drinkers from the chains of inhibition.  Of course, Andy doesn't need much help at shedding his inhibitions, but he was rather juiced this particular night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like what happens whenever an artist comes out for an encore, fans scream for their favorite songs.  Apparently, Andy's favorite Bright Eyes' track is "Drunk Kid Catholic" and he asked Oberst to play it.  And he asked.  And he hollered.  This continued through Oberst's first song of the encore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Oberst had had enough (wine and Andy's request) and stormed off stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward about six months later at Detroit's St. Andrews Hall.  It was my brother Nate's birthday and several of us met at this show to celebrate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nate started the night off by ordering a beer.  I ordered right next to him.  I was a little put off that the beers were so expensive that all I got back was a quarter, so I turned around without leaving a tip.  The bartender saw the quarter and thought Nate had left a quarter tip (which he had actually left nothing, but that's besides the point) and threw the quarter at Nate's head.  Needless to say, Nate had to be careful which bartender to approach for the rest of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually Bright Eyes filled the stage and put on a decent show.  Nate and our friend CJ decided to honor Andy by hollering for "Drunk Kid Catholic" throughout the set...or at least once they got drunk enough to not care anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once they got bored with this request, instead of screaming for another BE song, they altered the title by replacing "Catholic" with any religion they could think of.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Drunk Kid Mennonite.  Drunk Kid Baptist.  Drunk Kid Muslim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between requests, Nate and CJ were buying each other drinks at an alarming pace.  Finally, the bar refused to serve either one.  So, I bought them drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night ended with Nate pushing the issue further by arguing with the same bartender that tossed the quarter at him earlier.  On our way out, Nate condemned Detroit and all its occupants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I later gave Nate an MC5 record I purchased that day in Ann Arbor.  Happy birthday...you drunk kid Agnostic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-915533559161266635?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/915533559161266635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=915533559161266635&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/915533559161266635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/915533559161266635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/bright-eyes-and-catholics.html' title='Bright Eyes and the Drunk Kids Catholic'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-1122099299073904037</id><published>2007-10-16T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T06:50:28.543-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Modest Mouse'/><title type='text'>Eric Judy Needs a Job</title><content type='html'>A friend of a friend has lived in Seattle since graduating from college at the turn of the century.  Being the hipster she is, she has worked all the cool jobs in Seattle, including bar tender, florist (at Pike's Place), and coffee shop manager.  It was this last job that allowed her an opportunity to meet Eric Judy of Modest Mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a typically rainy day, Judy walked up to the counter and asked for the manager.  My friend recognized Judy right away and was slightly star-struck.  Judy proceeded to ask her for a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that Modest Mouse was on hiatus and it was unclear if they were ever going to get back together again.  Isaac Brock was as unstable as ever and drummer Jeremiah Green was playing with the band Satisfact.  Judy had kids to feed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend bought him a coffee and sat down to chat.  She basically talked him out of applying for a job because he was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eric Judy of Modest Mouse&lt;/span&gt;.  Judy took her advice and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a year of his job hunt, Judy and the other members of Modest Mouse recorded &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Good People Who Love Bad News&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-1122099299073904037?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/1122099299073904037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=1122099299073904037&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1122099299073904037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1122099299073904037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/eric-judy-needs-job.html' title='Eric Judy Needs a Job'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-7313357531335842235</id><published>2007-10-15T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T06:29:02.789-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pavement'/><title type='text'>My Sister's Liquid Courage and Stephen Malkmus</title><content type='html'>Stephen Malkmus and his Jicks were set to play Little Borther's.  I arrived between the opener and Malkmus' set to find my sister three sheets to the wind and boasting of a conversation with SM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She gathered up enough courage (ie a few beers) to strike up a conversation with SM.  She told him how much Pavement had meant to her since she was 13 or 14.  She bragged about attending their last American show (at Cincinnati's Bogart's).   SM finally got a word in and mentioned that former Pavement percussionist/hype man/Moog-beater Bob Nastanovich was at the show, selling t-shirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bob, aka &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nasty&lt;/span&gt;, was happy to chat with a Pavement fan.  Nasty now lives in Louisville across the street from Churchill Downs.  My sister proceeded to tell him how our family used to go down to Louisville every year for a big sheep show.  She compared al sorts of insights about sheep with Bob's knowledge of horses.  This impressed Nasty and SM.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-7313357531335842235?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/7313357531335842235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=7313357531335842235&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7313357531335842235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/7313357531335842235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-sisters-liquid-courage-and-stephen.html' title='My Sister&apos;s Liquid Courage and Stephen Malkmus'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-9106862793446984761</id><published>2007-10-13T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T12:53:33.364-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Adam Duritz'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><title type='text'>Career Advice from Bob Pollard</title><content type='html'>The first time I ever saw Guided by Voices was on the second stage at Lollapalooza in 1994.  They were supporting &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bee Thousand&lt;/span&gt; which should be on every one's top-ten of all-time, no excuses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After GBV put on an electric set in the hot, summer sun, Bob ended up hanging out at the second stage's merch booth.  The drunkard of an indie rock genius struck up a conversation with my brother.  Nate told Bob that he was heading to Wright State (Bob's alma mater) in the fall to major in elementary education (again, Bob's major).  Pollard proceeded to tell my brother what a great profession teaching was.  Of course, just as Bob had, Nate eventually gave up this dream and now plays in bands in Dayton.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get to meet Bob Pollard.  Instead, I met Adam Duritz of Counting Crows just before he leaped into the mosh pit for the Flaming Lips set on the second stage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-9106862793446984761?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/9106862793446984761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=9106862793446984761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/9106862793446984761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/9106862793446984761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/career-advice-from-bob-pollard.html' title='Career Advice from Bob Pollard'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-111289040485203584</id><published>2007-10-10T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T12:24:16.016-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sub Pop'/><title type='text'>The Six Degrees of Sub Pop</title><content type='html'>My uncle grew up with a friend named John.  My mom even dated John's brother once.  The boys eventually went their separate ways to college.  My uncle attended Kenyon (I believe) and John traveled out west to Evergreen State in Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, John invited my uncle to join him in the Pacific Northwest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the eighties and there was a thriving music scene developing in this part of the country.  Besides the local acts, my uncle got the chance to see bands like Black Flag and The Replacements.  However, my uncle succumbed to a few demons and had to return to Ohio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever happened to John?  Well, his full name is John Poneman.  He joined Bruce Pavitt in establishing the record label Sub Pop.  Sub Pop would later gain fame during the grunge era with releases by Nirvana, Mudhoney, Soundgarden, and others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-111289040485203584?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/111289040485203584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=111289040485203584&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/111289040485203584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/111289040485203584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/six-degrees-of-sub-pop.html' title='The Six Degrees of Sub Pop'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5292135306717993273</id><published>2007-10-08T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T08:16:37.678-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archers of Loaf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ben Folds'/><title type='text'>Ben Folds Noticed My T-Shirt</title><content type='html'>I took my sister to see Ben Folds Five at Bogart's in Cincinnati.  We ate at the Mediteranean restaurant a few doors down.  Ben Folds and a friend walked in to eat just on the other side of the restaurant.  My sister was frozen with anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to go to the restroom to get a better look.  As I walked past, Ben said to his dinner-mate, "Hey, that guy is wearing an Archers of Loaf t-shirt."  And I was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5292135306717993273?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5292135306717993273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5292135306717993273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5292135306717993273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5292135306717993273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/ben-folds-noticed-my-t-shirt.html' title='Ben Folds Noticed My T-Shirt'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-6097137519916159372</id><published>2007-10-02T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T22:16:28.003-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Archers of Loaf'/><title type='text'>This Guy, Lee Ranaldo, and Archers of Loaf</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The night after the lady licked my ear clean at the Guided By Voices show in Dayton, I decided to brave yet another GBV show, only this time in Columbus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was driving with my friend John and a couple of his buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of John's friends - let's call him "Steve" since I don't remember his real name - heard me mention Archers of Loaf and had a story to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve went to school somewhere in North Carolina.  He drove over to Chapel Hill one night to catch Archers of Loaf in their hometown.  As an added bonus, Steve met Lee Ranaldo of Sonic Youth outside of the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve and Lee struck up a somewhat friendly conversation.  Then, Lee wanted to go in before Archers of Loaf began their set, so he went around to the back entrance, as rock stars tend to do, and said he'd meet Steve inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve started to walk up to the front entrance when he noticed two concert-goers being turned away because they were not 21.  Steve, who was 20 at the time, didn't know what to do.  He really wanted to see Archers of Loaf and wanted to continue his conversation with Lee, but now he was unable to enter the venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later, Ranaldo comes out looking for Steve.  Steve tells him the situation.  Lee offers Steve his ID and says he'll meet him inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve promptly walked up to the doorman and handed him his ticket and Lee's ID.  The doorman looked skeptically at the ID, at Steve, and then back at the ID.  He asked Steve what year he was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who really knows how old Lee Ranaldo is?  Steve apparently did not.  He guessed something like 1962 (Lee was born in 1956) and was turned away as the doorman kept Lee's ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve eventually got in the back door with Lee's help, but the only thing he could remember from that Archers of Loaf show was his encounter with Lee Ranaldo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-6097137519916159372?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/6097137519916159372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=6097137519916159372&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6097137519916159372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/6097137519916159372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/this-guy-lee-ranaldo-and-archers-of.html' title='This Guy, Lee Ranaldo, and Archers of Loaf'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-8628675721188472420</id><published>2007-10-01T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T19:14:32.232-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mike Watt'/><title type='text'>My Shoulder Helped Mike Watt</title><content type='html'>I went to see Mike Watt once at Stache's in Columbus.  Nels Cline played in his band that night and did not seem out of place.  Mike used my shoulder to get on stage and said, "Thanks, buddy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-8628675721188472420?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/8628675721188472420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=8628675721188472420&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8628675721188472420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/8628675721188472420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-shoulder-helped-mike-watt.html' title='My Shoulder Helped Mike Watt'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-4493968092166089834</id><published>2007-09-30T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T18:26:55.375-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Guided By Voices'/><title type='text'>Licked</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have been licked twice by strangers at shows.  Coincidentally, both shows were Guided By Voices concerts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was a GBV show at &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Columbus&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; heavy metal venue, Alrosa Villa.  Opening up for GBV were longtime local favorites Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments and New Bomb Turks.  The Slave Apartments came on before I was officially licked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends and I were stationed right in front of the stage as was usual for me in my college years.  New Bomb Turks' front man Eric Davidson made a b-line for the fresh-faced boy in the indie rock t-shirt: me.  Before I knew it, Davidson licked the side of my face (or licked his hand and wiped it on my face - I've never really been sure).  The band continued to play with the Iggy-like singer belting away some punk rock poetry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was either later in the song or another song all together when Davidson returned to my spot in front of the stage.  He leaned over and began pointing frenetically at his cheek.  I looked at him and then to my friends.  No one knew what he wanted from me.  I didn't either, but I reacted anyway by licking the man's sweaty face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends were horrified, especially my girlfriend, but I didn't really care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second time I was licked at a rock show was a couple years later at a GBV show in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Dayton&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was down to my last two cigarettes when a woman who had been taking pictures on the stage asked me for one of those cancer sticks.  She appeared to be some mid-to-upper-thirties groupie who had probably seen some wild parties in her days.  I protested, but she said that she'd make it worth my while.  I told her not to bother and that she could just have the cigarette free of charge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I handed her the cigarette and she asked me for a light.  I promptly held up my lighter but had to take it back when I realized the drunkard was holding the cigarette backwards.  Against my better judgment, I turned the cigarette around the right way and lit if for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woman was so appreciative that she reached for my head to lay one on me.  I quickly turned my head only to receive the painful shock of her tongue half way down my ear canal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friends pointed and laughed.  There aren't enough Q-tips in the world to clean the slobber of an over-the-hill groupie-photographer-wannabe from one's ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guided By Voices rocked both nights, by the way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-4493968092166089834?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/4493968092166089834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=4493968092166089834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4493968092166089834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/4493968092166089834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/09/licked.html' title='Licked'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-5362758675594707547</id><published>2007-09-27T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T22:47:11.394-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonic Youth'/><title type='text'>Thurston and Lee in an Alley</title><content type='html'>The day after seeing Sonic Youth &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;open&lt;/span&gt; for Wilco (Jim O'Rourke-palooza) in Cleveland, I got to meet Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo in an alley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had just finished eating dinner at Bento A Go Go in Columbus and a buddy of mine (now in The Sun) claimed to have seen Sonic Youth inside, ordering bento boxes.  This was highly likely since Sonic Youth was playing that night, next door in the Newport (the US's longest running rock club).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left Bento by driving down the alley behind the Newport when we saw them.  It was Thurston and Lee just standing there, signing autographs.  My sister, who also attended the show on the previous night, and I were too afraid to approach our heroes, but my crazy friend Nicki was not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicki made us pull over and she leaped out of the car to meet these two guys she had never heard of.  After we watched Nicki talk to T &amp;amp; L for a few minutes, she ran over and told us that they wanted to meet us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for my wedding, I've never felt so nervous in my life.  All that I could muster was "You guys were good last night".  This was my chance to ask about stories of playing for the first time with Steve Shelley behind the drum kit in Columbus or letting underage fans into clubs on Lee's id.  I wanted to talk about how they rebuilt their instruments from scratch in order to make their unique sound only to have these same instruments stolen while on tour.  I had tons of things I wanted to know but no gumption to speak up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicki, on the other hand, had no problem.  She asked what the "pace" button on Lee's shirt meant.  She asked how tall Thurston was and about his daughter. Coco.  She explained that she had never heard their music before but was way more into folk.  She went on and on, and T &amp;amp; L thought she was fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I  know what you're thinking: The only reason Nicki was so comfortable with T &amp;amp; L was because she didn't know who they were.  Well, that ain't the case.  I witnessed Nicki go right up to Joan Baez at a peace rally and hug her.  She's had heart-to-heart conversations with Ani DiFranco and Tori Amos.  Nothing phases her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Nicki and 2/5 (O'Rourke was with them) of Sonic Youth chatted it up in the alley, the guys signed my sister's Sonic Youth tote bag and we sulked away.  I doubt I'll get a chance to talk to them again, but at least I had a chance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-5362758675594707547?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/5362758675594707547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=5362758675594707547&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5362758675594707547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/5362758675594707547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/09/thurston-and-lee-in-alley.html' title='Thurston and Lee in an Alley'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7563746344954694423.post-1034877658144870278</id><published>2007-09-26T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T22:51:47.723-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Modest Mouse'/><title type='text'>Isaac Brock at Sudsy Malone's</title><content type='html'>I've met Isaac Brock, the front man of Billboard darlings Modest Mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a crisp November in 1997 at Cincinnati's Sudsy Malone's.  Sudsy Malone's is a great bar/club/laundromat  (yes, I wrote "laundromat") that's located in an artsy neighborhood of the Queen City.  There's a cool, old-style bar with plenty of selection, a lax doorman, a stage with its back to the front window, and several washers and dryers in the rear.  We arrived early - before the doorman was even ready - and hung out, waiting for the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bands did not disappoint.  I sat atop the bar as 764-HERO  and Modest Mouse collaborated for "Whenever You See Fit".  Soon after this show-stopper, MM played a raucous set.  We were  plenty satisfied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although the band mostly played new material, a girl who traveled with us talked Brock into playing "All Night Diner" even though he was tired of the song.  It didn't hurt that the girl was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a chance to chat with Eric and Jeremiah who were rather pleasant fellows.  They asked what I bought from the merch table.  So, I proudly showed off my new Mouse t-shirt and a 7".  The record was "Birds vs. Worms" which Jeremiah didn't really care for, but we all agreed that the packaging (pressed on marbled powder blue vinyl in a translucent, rice paper sleeve) was really cool.  According to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/span&gt;, there were only 500 of these singles pressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit the John and headed out the door for our hour drive back to Dayton.  As we made our way up the street, we saw Brock with this woman hanging all over him.  Brock had had conversations at previous shows with this guy, Adam, that was with us who was wheelchair-bound (MS I think).  The two acquaintances shared a common interest in having beat poetry and Buddhist imagery tattooed all over their arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brock promptly stopped us and told the woman that he needed to talk to us since he hadn't seen us in a long time.  After exchanging pleasantries, Brock invited us back to the bar for some drinks.  I talked to him about seeing Modest Mouse in Columbus the year before.  He remembered being weirded out about playing a bagel and beer joint, but he loved that night's opener, Tiara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our group re-entered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sudsy's&lt;/span&gt;, and Brock headed to the bar for those promised beers.  He returned with a beer in each hand.  He handed (the three of) us one and kept the other for himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of our discussion was dominated by Brock insisting that we find a dance club that was still open at 2:30 AM.  This was Cincinnati, not New York.  We eventually left a little star-struck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7563746344954694423-1034877658144870278?l=anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/feeds/1034877658144870278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7563746344954694423&amp;postID=1034877658144870278&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1034877658144870278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7563746344954694423/posts/default/1034877658144870278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anecdotalexistence.blogspot.com/2007/09/isaac-brock-at-sudsy-malones.html' title='Isaac Brock at Sudsy Malone&apos;s'/><author><name>comoprozac</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07898082287641166601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='25' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rAx9SOMx_qQ/SPCVCMnyg_I/AAAAAAAACHQ/SwhMyMtNorU/S220/profile.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
